Page 43 of Please, Stay

Grayson took a step. Why did that man keep touching her?

The woman slid an arm around Grayson’s waist and took out her phone. “My, my,” she said as she pressed herself against him. “You are definitely more man than you look in your movies. I have got to get a picture with you. My friendswon’tbelieve me.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Trevor had warned him to be friendly to fans. Fans were what drove up box office numbers. His sex appeal helped sell directors and producers on casting him. At this one moment, Grayson didn’t care. He needed to put some distance between Juliana and the insipid looking puppy sniffing along behind her.

The woman beside Grayson pouted, pressing her chest against his arm. He sighed and motioned to her camera. “Just take it. I need to see someone.”

“I can’t imagine why you need to see anyone but little, old me.” She giggled, and it sounded wildly odd for a woman of forty.

“Can’t imagine,” he mumbled.

She held up the phone and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Personal space was another thing most of his rabid fans didn’t understand. Would she walk up and kiss the cheek of a complete stranger? Probably not. And technically, even though the world thought they knew him, he was a stranger.

Juliana had disappeared by the time the woman let him out of her clutches. He moved around the long counter in the middle of the coffee shop. After the commotion, everyone in the shop snapped his picture as he walked by.

The coffee shop ended up being a maze of rooms, some darker than others, that wound back in the narrow, old building. His stomach tightened with dread each step he took. Where were they? Why would she go with another guy? His pride couldn’t contemplate that train of thought.

The first two rooms were nearly empty. A pool table in another with a few guys playing. He glanced into a third room but didn’t see anyone. He started to walk by.

“I said, no!”

The statement was muffled, but clear. And Juliana’s voice.

Grayson took long steps into the room.

Back in the corner, a booth sat at an odd angle, blocking the view of the occupants.

A slap of skin made Grayson surge forward and drag back the entire side of the booth. The metal feet screeched along the tile floor.

Juliana started to tumble to the ground, but Grayson caught her with one hand. Fear clouded her eyes.

A rare feeling of blood-lust surged through him, all aimed at whoever put that fear in her eyes.

Grayson lunged for the man, still sitting in the booth, clutching him by the front of his overly starched shirt. One tug brought the lightweight asshole up and out of the seat and into the wall next to them. It was like tossing a bag of dog food.

The man’s back hit the wall before his body dropped. His face smacked against the hard tile floor.

Blood trickled from the corner of his lip.

He moaned, curling into a ball before sitting up. “What the hell!” He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, eyes widening when he saw the dark red smear.

Adrenalin pulsed as Grayson spotted the red drops on the floor. The noise around him lowered to barely a murmur. No one would treat Juliana that way.

He picked the guy up, pinning him against the wall with a forearm to his throat. The gurgling sound coming from the chump’s airway didn’t bother Grayson. Breathing was a luxury. The guy’s brown eyes bugged out in fear.

Dark satisfaction like he’d never experienced before rammed through Grayson.

He’d been in fights before. Choreographed fights in movies. He’d trained with some of the top instructors in the world. He knew how to not kill a man.

Which meant he knew how.

Juliana’s soft voice echoed through his mind. Her hands stroked his shoulder and down his back. “Grayson.” She pulled on the arm that anchored the piece of shit to the wall.

“Grayson. Let him down. Calm down, Grayson. Let go. It’s over. I’m okay.”

He released him. The guy crumpled to the ground, shouting incoherent threats in between coughing to regain his breath.

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